


Like Midnight

by dangerz0ne



Category: Nightwing (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerz0ne/pseuds/dangerz0ne
Summary: Dick is sad about his breakup with Barbara, but has to come take care of Damian, who not too long ago got into some fear gas. However, Deathstroke unexpectedly appears.





	Like Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place maybe about seven months after Damian Wayne starts living with Bruce. When he first came to live with Bruce, as I have read, he was very violent. I don't know if Dick Grayson was Nightwing at this point in the actual comics, but he is in this story. 
> 
> *= flashback

This feeling is like a storm cloud hovering around me. The thunder rumbles and the lightning strikes. Agony is all I feel. Tears fall down my eyes as like a cascade and I pull the blankets over me, just wanting to fade away. Bolts of lighting continue to strike. The storm rages on. I wish this pain could be diminished somehow, but I don’t see how that could be possible. The clouds form and the sun conceals itself, the sky no longer azure. Darkness enveloped me. I feel so encumbered, as if there is this huge weight on top of me. The storm is a burden that is almost too much to bear; this stupid broken heart of mine is smashed into a million little pieces. I love her. I love her with all that I am; with every fiber of my being. And she wouldn’t even try. She wasn’t even honest with me until the last minute. 

The darkness that surrounded me seemed to enclose on me even more; the more I thought about her, the more it grew. 

 

*“Dick, this isn’t working.”

 

“What?” I said.

 

“Us. You keep bringing up things from the past, when we are both way past that. It’s like you don’t even realize how much it bothers me-

 

“Well maybe I would if you had told me sooner. Maybe I would have realized.” When was she planning on telling me this? Now? I clenched my fists, feeling mad.

 

“You knew you were doing it, what was the point?” And you keep on pushing and pushing yourself to the very limit and I have to deal with it. You don’t even realize what you’re doing!” 

She said, averting her eyes.

 

Her words stung. My nostrils flared with anger and tears welled in my eyes.

 

“I have to push myself. That’s who I am. That’s who Nightwing is, you know that.” I said, emphatically.

 

“Well, I don’t want to deal with it anymore. None of it. The bringing up of the past and pushing yourself…it’s just not working.”

 

“You don’t even want to try?” I asked, softly.

 

“Not right now, no.” She said harshly. *

 

The thunder rumbled. Two strikes of lightning hit me. Tears fell down and I clenched my fists. I threw my phone hard down onto the floor. I felt like I was going to explode. Why didn’t she tell me how she felt beforehand? I would have stopped.

 

My phone rang and I grumbled. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I picked up my phone off the floor and saw that it was Bruce. I’d have to answer him. “Hello?” I said morosely. 

 

“Dick, I need you to-are you alright?”

 

“I am fine.”

 

“I need you to take care of Damian tonight and tomorrow morning while I and Alfred go out of town. He accidentally got himself fear gassed this morning and I am…well, just come over.”

“I’ll be right over.” Huh? Alfred never goes out of town. I am so not in the mood to look after him, but though he is spoiled, and arrogant, he’s my brother, after all. If he’s hurting, then its my problem too.

——————-

 

When I got to the mansion, the thunder kept rumbling. No-one was here except Ace, who I heard barking. Sulking, I began walking down the hall towards where Damian’s room was. It was oddly quiet. Too quiet. Quiet would only lead to more darkness. When I arrived at his door, I knocked. 

 

“What?” He said quietly.

 

“It’s Dick, can I come in?”

 

“Dick!” 

 

He called out my name and was at the door immediately. When he opened it, he smiled. I feigned a smile in return. Ace came over and I pet his head.

 

“Bruce sent me over because of the-

 

“I can take care of myself.” He said, annoyed. There he goes again, being all spoiled and conceited. I wasn’t hurt by his words, just irritated. He walked away and sat down on his bed.

 

“Damian, don’t act like that.”

 

“I am old enough to take care of myself. Father doesn’t believe me. He thinks I am-

 

“Damian, he was worried about you because of the fear gas. Do you want to talk about what happened?”

 

“No.”

 

Beginning to get angry, I took a deep breath.

 

The bat hound hovered around us, the lightning striking me again. I wanted to cry again. I just want to go home. 

 

“What would you like to do then?”

 

“Arm wrestling?” I’ll beat you this time.”

Ah, the arm wrestling competition we got ourselves into the last time I was here. He kept saying his strength surpassed mine, but I just kept on winning, pulling his arm down. Damian was so mad it was actually funny. Then he broke a vase and it wasn’t funny anymore.It was hard to keep a straight face when all I wanted to do was curl up into the fetal position like a little child. I felt like a child. “No vases included this time?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” He said, shrugging me off.

 

“Get ready to be beaten. My strength surpasses yours.” He said, proudly.

“Oh, you are so humble.”

 

“Father says its good to be proud of one’s self.”

 

I scoffed. 

“Okay, then, let’s get started, right here, on the desk. Ace laid down on his bed and watched us.

 

“Is something wrong, brother?” He asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

 

“I am fine.” I said, lying. He knew I wasn’t telling the truth.

 

“You’re lying.” He said, in an accusatory tone. 

 

“Fine, I am lying.”

 

“Let me guess, is it Barbara?”

Just hearing the name made my heart break. The storm surged inside of me. I was a whirlpool of emotions. I am not going to be any good at playing dad tonight. Ugh. How was I going to surmount this heartbreak? I gave a nod of my head. 

 

“Talk to me about it.”

 

I am surprised; genuinely surprised. He doesn’t like to talk about feelings, especially his. It shouldn’t surprise me though. Deep down, beneath all the arrogance, self-righteousness, and violence, he is a good brother. He really cares about Tim and I, even though he won’t admit it.

 

“I miss her.” I paused. “A lot.”

 

“Why did you guys break up again?” He inquired.

 

“Over something stupid. Lets just say it had to do with something I did, something she wasn’t even honest about.”

 

“What wasn’t she honest about?” He said. He was genuinely interested.

 

She waited until the last minute to tell me she didn’t like how I was bringing up things from the past and how I push myself too hard. I am Nightwing, that’s what I do! I have to push myself.” I said angrily. I could feel tears welling in my eyes. 

 

He gave a nod of his head. “I may not have much experience in the romance department, but something tells me, talking to her about how you feel would help.”

 

“And what would I say? I’ve already apologized.” 

 

We’ve delved into this matter before and I actually tried his advice, but never ended up calling her. I messaged her, but she didn’t answer.

 

“You could be honest and tell her you didn’t like how she wasn’t honest. Did you ever tell her that?”

 

“I tried, she didn’t want to talk about it.” I said, furrowing my eyebrows. I was at the end of my rope here. She doesn’t want to talk.

 

Should I try again?”

 

“Yes. My advice usually works.”

 

“Again, you’re so humble. Maybe try being less conceited?” I said, jokingly. 

 

And with that there was a dire change in his expression. I don’t know how to describe the way he looked, but he looked as if I had smacked him across the face. Suddenly, he sucker punched the wall.“Hey, calm down!” I exclaimed.

 

Damian left the room. Ace cowered in the corner, not expecting the punch. He slowly made his way over to me and I pet him. “He’ll be alright, Ace.”

 

I walked out of the room, noticing the small dent in the wall and my ever growing, expanding broken heart. Bruce will kill him when he gets home. What did I do? I didn’t do anything.

 

“Damian?” I called out, but of course there was no answer. 

 

Tears fell down from my eyes, but I wiped them away. I was soon downstairs, as was Damian. He sat angrily at the kitchen table, not acknowledging my presence at all.

“Get out.”

 

“Damian, what did I do? I was just joking.”

 

This time he punched the table, scaring me a little bit. Why did he have to be so violent?’

 

“It wasn’t a joke to me.” He said, harshly and then got up, walking away.

 

I felt two hundred times worse now. Besides missing Barbara, I had somehow managed to upset Damian. Tim was here, back from patrol. I could hear him. “Let me go!” Damian exclaimed angrily. I walked into the other room where Tim was holding Damian in place. Damian was punching Tim in the stomach as hard as he could.

 

“Damian, stop it!” I cried out. Tim sighed and eased off of him, letting him walk away.

 

He went up the stairs and suddenly, something went boom. Damian couldn’t of possibly heard it, but Tim and I did. In the blink of an eye, we were down in the basement. Deathstroke was staring at us. What the hell he doing here?

 

Tim ran, probably to get on his costume, but I, I didn’t get the chance to do that. “You could have at least knocked.” I said.

 

He didn’t say anything and charged for me. I did a roll across the floor as batarangs came flying my way, striking him in the shoulder. He groaned and I gave him a roundhouse kick to the shin. Tim punched him in the face, and in return, Deathstroke thrust his fist at Tim, hitting him square in the jaw. This would be a vicious, nasty fight. I should have known he was coming. Tim and Bruce have been on the lookout for him since last week, but I didn’t know why. Momentarily distracted, he kicked me in the shin, hard. I let out a groan and slammed my fist into his stomach. Tim twisted his arm back, and there was a crack. He probably just dislodged his shoulder. Even if he wasn’t keen on getting his arm broken and in a lot of pain, he didn’t show it. He let out a loud groan though. Deathstroke, collided into him, smashing into the cave wall. He didn’t want to fight me, he wanted to fight against Tim-Red Robin. All of a sudden Damian ran into the room and flung a batarang at him, striking him deep in the back. Some bats flew in the room, freaking Wade out for a moment, causing him to avert his body from all of ours. I chuckled. He’s scared of bats? Damian slugged him in the face, pushing me out of the way. It hurt. It did, to have him do that. Tim and I looked at each other, giving each other a nod. Both of us ran towards our foe while Damian was taking care of him (punching him, kicking him, etc.) and rammed our bodies into him. He pushed Damian onto the cement, but the kid came right back up.

Deathstroke put his hands on my shoulder while Tim stood on his foot and knocked me down, hard onto the ground. Tim gave him another slug in the face and Damian elbowed him in the chin, his head going upwards. When I got pushed, I ensured that I landed on my hands, so I could push myself back up, gaining more momentum. I pivoted, swiveling around and smashing his face in with my foot. I felt winded for a minute, which caused me to be distracted and well, earned myself a punch in the jowl. Tim and Damian were delivering kicks and punches, but Deathstroke just kept fighting back. I stood there, trying to figure out what to do next. 

 

I delivered a nice hearty kick to his groin area and he didn’t fall to the ground like I was hoping, but he did groan and stumble backwards. 

 

“What do you want, Slade?” 

 

“You know exactly what I want. Him.” He said. 

 

Damian let out a low guttural growl and lunged at him.

 

He plunged one of his swords into Tim’s elbow and he cried out in pain, collapsing onto the ground.

 

“Oh, you’ll face my wrath!” Damian said, threatening him. 

 

Damian gave him a blow to his stomach and in return, Deathstroke slashed Damian with his weapon. Damian cried out as well and I slammed my fist into Slade’s face and then, leapt towards Tim, trying to help him up. He was hurt, badly, but was able to steady himself and thrust a batarang into his shoulder. I leapt into the air, spreading my legs out and slung my arm around his neck, putting him in a chokehold. It wasn’t a strong enough one because he elbowed me in the face, throwing me off balance, diverting my stance and causing me to stumble backwards.

 

Damian looked as tired as I felt, but still continued to spar. Tim did as well. Deathstroke brandished his sword as I did a cartwheel, my feet ramming into his vertebrae. He fell to the ground, but managed to get back up. Tim and Damian were getting tired, their movements becoming slowed. My arm was on fire, but I had to keep going. This spar didn’t seem to be ending anytime soon. Damian and Tim both were able to get him on the ground and with that, my foot collided into his flank. His upper body movements were slightly impeded at the moment because Tim had him in a proper chokehold. Damian reached for his sword, but Slade delivered a kick to his face. Damian defiantly punched him in the cheek and Tim let him go, stepping on his collarbone. He brandished his sword again and I tried to work around the weapon, grinding my foot into his pelvis. Damian stabbed him in the thigh with a batarang, blood gushing out. Slade sat on his knees, ignoring the blood and punched Tim in his abdomen. He continued to wield his sword, slashing Damian again. 

 

“Damian!” I cried out. 

 

He’ll get a good thrashing for that. Tim helped Damian up, blood, dripping from his arm. The mercenary was nearly impossible to defeat. He was really good. My eyes drooped for a minute but I hurdled towards him, Deathstroke coming towards me as well. Tim rammed him in the shoulder with his fist and I shoved my foot into his stomach. 

 

He should be stopping soon enough. Blood seeped out all sides of him and he moved wearily. His sword sunk into my thigh and I cried out in pain. I don’t know how much longer I can keep going. Damian and Tim bolted towards him, blood dripping down both of their arms and onto the concrete. I put my hand on Slade’s neck and slammed his head on the ground, causing him to cry out in agony. When Deathstroke stood up, Damian collided into him at full force and I stabbed him in the chest with the bat weapon. Tim socked him in the jugular and I slammed my fist into his abdomen. He should be down by now. We were completely overpowering him. He wielded his sword again, but could barely stand. Damian shoved him forcefully and he collapsed. We waited a minute to ensure that he wasn’t going to move anymore. Practically out of thin air, he cuffed our foe and sank to the ground on his knees. Tim and him were both losing blood fast. So was I, but they were worse off. 

 

————————-

 

Carefully, I stitched Tim’s wound on his elbow, pulling the thread out. I had called Alfred and Bruce because I needed help and they came just in time. Alfred was stitching up Damians wound and Bruce was stitching up his son’s. Alfred bandaged me up, saying that I would have to wait to be stitched up. Both Tim and Damian were cringing as the threads were being pulled in and out. My arm felt like it was on fire. I haven’t been in this much pain in awhile. “Agh.” I said.

 

“I am going to be fixing you up soon, Master Richard.” Damian was still angry with me, glaring at me every now and then. 

 

“Damian, sit still.” Bruce said.

 

“Sorry, I am imagining all the different ways I can annihilate Dick.”

 

“Stop it, Damian.” Bruce said. He may have hurt you emotionally, but that doesn’t mean you can hurt him too."

 

Damian let out a growling sound, much like Ace has done before. “Master Damian, may I remind you, you are not a dog. It is unbecoming of you to growl.” Alfred said, scolding him.

 

He clenched his jaw, but remained silent, glaring at me again. 

 

“Tell me what I did.” I said. 

 

“Dick, I have a needle in my hand, I don’t think now is the best time.” Bruce said, noting. 

 

—————————

 

I slowly opened my eyes and Damian and Tim were staring at me. “What happened?” I asked, dazed. 

 

“You passed out.” Tim said. Alfred was getting me a cup of water. 

 

I sighed. “Where’s Bruce?”

 

“Tending to the devil’s spawn in the cave. Can we talk?” Damian said.

 

Tim promptly left the room as Alfred brought me my cup of water. I slowly sat up and Damian sat down next to me. “When I got fear gassed… 

 

He choked up, tears welling in his eyes. “Tim and you…well, you said, I was conceited, arrogant, violent and that neither of you liked me…he said..he said…you both hated me and wished I was never born.”

 

Tears fell down his eyes and I put my arm around him. “Damian, Tim would never treat you like that. Neither of us would ever say we’d wish you’d never been born.”  
He curled up beneath my neck, tears still continuing to fall.

 

“Is that a fear of yours?” That we’ll reject you?”

 

He nodded. “Never.” I said, vehemently. 

 

That will never happen.”

And along with his tears, came mine; for a completely different reason, but they still came. Feeling torpid, I didn’t move from the bed. Neither did Damian. He was still curled up under my neck. My cheeks were wet from tears of my own and I could feel my eyes drooping. I was tired; emotionally and mentally. My feelings have been tumultuous lately, as I have been dealing with a heart that has been smashed into a million pieces. I held my phone in my hand and kept thinking about calling her, but doing so would cause too much pain. It would have to wait. There was an air mattress in Damian’s closet that I would need to use. I wasn’t going home tonight. I was way too tired. I took a look at my watch and was surprised to find it wasn’t even ten o’ clock yet. It was only nine fifty. “Can we look at my scrapbook before I go to bed?” I need…I need, nevermind.”

 

“No, tell me, what do you need?”

 

“I need you to be here with me right now.”

 

“Of course.”

 

I reached under his bed and felt around for the scrapbook. This is a good idea; it would distract me from Barbara. Oh, my heart. Just saying my name breaks it even more.

 

I sat back up on the bed, bringing the scrapbook with me. “You want to look at this because you’ll be reminded that we don’t hate you, right?”

He nodded. I smiled sadly.

 

“Maybe you need it too, right now.” 

 

“Maybe.” 

 

I opened the first page of the book. The photo was from the first night Bruce had brought Damian home. He insisted on us taking a picture of all of us. Damian held a reserved look in the photo, while Tim, Bruce, Alfred and I all smiled. He was so angry that night. “Remember this one?”

 

“How could I forget?” Father insisted that we take a photo together, even though at the time I would have rather stabbed myself.”

I nodded. “You see, how close we all are together? We wouldn’t have gotten that close if we hated you.”

“How could you have hated me then? You had just met me.”

“True. But if we didn’t want you around, we wouldn’t be smiling. We were happy to welcome you into our home.”

Damian was the complete opposite. He nearly murdered Tim one day, soon after he arrived for the first time. I flipped to the next page. It was a photo of Bruce training Damian. He was only ten, but Bruce wanted him to have the mantle of Robin badly. I had already moved on from being Robin. Tim had too. In the photo, they were sparring, their fists both out and Damian’s leg not far from Bruce’s stomach.

 

“Easily, I won that round.” 

“You only won it because Bruce cared enough to teach you and you became good.” I said, my voice soft.

 

“No, I am inherently good at fighting. I was raised to be an assassin, after all.” He said, too confident about himself.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”

 

Damian turned to the next page. It was the five of us, during the summer, by the beach, a bucolic setting in the background. Bruce allowed Damian a day off from training and decided that it would be nice to go on a family outing, Alfred included. Our hair was wet from swimming and smiles were on all of our faces. We were all close together in the photo, Bruce’s hand resting on his blood son’s shoulder. 

 

“That was a fun day, remember?” I asked.

He nodded. 

 

“That was the first day I felt like I was a part of the family.”

 

“Really? You have never told me this.”

He shrugged. “It was too personal of a feeling.”

 

“Well, face it, you are forever part of this family.” I said, triumphantly.

 

He went to the next page and I smiled. It was a picture of the five of us at Thanksgiving. Damian had gravy smeared all over his chin, but refused to take it off for the photo. We all knew what we were thankful for that year.  
 

"Remember what we all said we were thankful for that year?"  
 

Every year, it is tradition that we go around the table and say what we are thankful for. That year, all of us, said, "Damian." Except for Damian of course, who praised the food and said "This turkey."  
   
He nodded.  
   
I was the one to turn the page next. It was a picture of Tim and Damian in the snow, having a snowball fight. They were standing next to each other against a brick wall. Ace, the puppy, was sitting next to them. Tim and Damian were smiling. Damian looked so young in the photo. It was a close round that snowy day. Damian had pulverized Tim, but Tim came around at the end, mustering up enough strength and conquering the self-absorbed ten year old.  
 

"I still think I did better than he did."  
   
"Damian, you lost." I noted.  
 

"The fact he beat me is inconsequential. I did better than him. If I hadn't have been tired, I surely would have won."  
 

"Okay, whatever you say. Next photo."  
   
The next one was another one where Damian looked young. He was ten in the photo and looked like he was five. In the background was the fireplace and we all stood, in well ironed suits, looking somber. Bruce wanted a serious photo, even though we were all in the Christmas spirit and had a sufficient amount to smile about. "The next photo is the best one by far." I said.  
   
I flipped the page and it was the same, but distinct photo of us in with the fireplace in the background. This time, Bruce said we could be funny. Being his innate violent self, Damian had put Tim in a choke-hold, scuffling his hair. Tim’s eyes were wide. My expression was lame. All I could think of doing was the “hang loose” symbol with both of my hands. Bruce and Alfred were sticking their tongues out to the right. 

 

“Now, I could have rejected you from the family because of that embarrassing photo alone. You ruined it. Bruce asked for a funny photo and you think of hang loose?” Damian said, scrunching his face in confusion.

 

I put up my hands as if I were surrendering. “I know, I know, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

 

“Okay, next page.”

 

I complied with his instructions, even though he wasn’t the boss of me, and turned the page. The photo on the page was taken on Christmas Day. I remember the day fondly. In the picture, (Ace, of course was included) Tim, Bruce, Damian, Alfred and I were all wearing matching red pajamas and had Santa hats on, much to Damian’s dismay. He said the Santa hats were “silly and juvenile.” Bruce had to put it on for him. He refused to put it on himself. Oh, yeah, how could I forget? As a joke, Damian put coal in my stocking. I was so confused and sad when I saw, but I soon realized it was a joke done by the blood-son and promptly chased him around the house for five minutes. I received another perfectly good stocking, without coal, from Bruce, with tchochkes and a heap of chocolate.

“Now, that Christmas was by far the best one we’ve had.” Damian noted. “You chased me around the house and I could just not stop laughing.

 

“My legs hurt just thinking about it.” I said, jokingly.

 

We spent a minute looking at the photo, fading into nostalgia. When he turned to the next page, his expression changed drastically and I could see his eyes gleam. The photo was taken after a fight Tim and him had. I can’t remember what it was about. Bruce demanded that they hug and make up, so in the photo, Damian hugging Tim. It will forever, Damian says, “Be the bane of my existence.”

“Oh, the bane of my….

He stopped. “No wonder why I worried about you guys rejecting me. Who could like a kid like me?”

“  
Damian, stop. We all love you and you know it. It doesn’t matter what your flaws are.” I said, vehemently. I really meant it too.

 

Tears fell down from his eyes and he wiped them away, when I should have been the one doing that. He sniffled. 

 

“See, you are a part of the family. All these photos should tell you that. Solemn, he was still upset about the photo. There was no time to console or comfort him. A batarang had gone through the door. Deathstroke. He had evaded capture. I did a roll across the floor and Damian bolted to the door, taking the bat-weapon out. He opened the door and saw Batman and Slade involved in a spar. Tim was coming up the stairs. I immediately grabbed rubber pellets that were on Damian’s desk and walked out. 

 

“Ready to feel my wrath again?” Damian said, ready to partake in fighting. Slade grabbed me and tossed me over the railing. I found myself flying through the air at rapid speed, luckily landing on the couch with a thud. I flung the pellets and pelted our enemy with them. Damian struck back, slamming his foot into his stomach. Batman threw another Batarang and then came in, putting him in a chokehold. Tim jumped over the railing of the stairs and landed on the couch.

 

I stood up and tossed one of Tim’s batarang up the stairs. Everyone was downstairs in a matter of minutes. Bruce had some batons for me instead of escrima sticks, which he handed over. My sticks clashed with his sword which he wielded. He had gotten out of his chokehold and Tim, slammed his foot against the small of his back. Bruce head butted him and he threw himself back in pain. He tried to hurt me by kicking my stomach, but I arched my back, averting the blow. Damian collided into him, his fists slamming into body, shoving him against the wall. We were all weary and tired, but we all had to keep pushing. I flung my pellets at him, Deathstroke receiving the balls blow’s and groaning. 

 

I hurdled towards him, ramming my baton into his stomach and thrust my fist against his jowl. Tim was trying to work around the sword, his foot colliding with flesh. I whammed my baton against his chin, causing him to groan. Damian grunted and kicked his leg between his legs. Deathstroke is like a locomotive. He keeps on going, no matter what. So do Tim, Damian and Bruce and I, no matter what. I dodged an incoming kick to the stomach and lodged the bat shaped weapon into Slade’s shoulder. I also tried to stop any thoughts of Barbara from coming in. I couldn’t get distracted. Damian and Tim were simultaneously kicking our enemy, Tim, in his thigh and Damian, against his back. Bruce was trying to avoid getting slashed by by his sword. 

 

His attention had diverted from Bruce to me and was now trying to harm me with his sword. I shifted my stance and threw my right leg back, putting my left leg in front and barring his sword with Bruce’s batons. Bruce did me the favor of knocking Slade’s head against the wall. I leapt, my legs going wide and jammed my elbow into his sternum. He kicked Damian in the chin and Tim, in the stomach. Bruce fended him off with a slam to the chest with his fist. Deathstroke thrust his fist into Bruce’s face, in return. He was starting to beat us. No, that wasn’t going to happen. I dove forward, punching him in the gut, only to receive a punch back in the shoulder. I don’t know how he was still moving. He had been pummeled so many times. I don’t know how any of us were still moving. Finally, Slade collapsed and Bruce handcuffed him again. He would not be escaping this time. 

 

Damian stalked off back to his room, ignoring Bruce’s call to get himself fixed up. I walked after him, calling out his name, “Damian?”

 

“Damian, you’ve got to ice those bruises.”

 

“I am fine.” 

 

“No, you’re not. You’re hurt. Emotionally and physically."

 

“I am fine, Dick!” He yelled, raising his voice. 

 

Sorry.” He said.

 

"It's okay." I said.

 

Damian walked over to his bed and began looking at the scrapbook again. There were tears in his eyes. "Damian, what upset you so much about the last photo?"

 

He was quiet for a moment, then answered quietly. "This will the only time in my life that I admit this, and if you tell anyone about this, I swear, I will-

 

"I am not going to tell anyone."

 

"If you do, I'll make it so you won't be able to move for days."

 

"Okay, I take your word for it." Really, I did. He would. He would totally kick me and hit me until I could no longer move. Damian may be thirteen, but he was raised by an assassin and trained by Bruce Wayne. 

 

"I am a hateful kid. I didn't deserve to be hugged."

 

"Damian, that's not true." I said. He wasn't hateful. Sure, he was violent, but not hateful. That's the wrong word to use. 

 

He crossed his arms and leaned up against the wall, looking down. 

 

"Listen, people make mistakes. And most, not all, but most people deserve to be forgiven. Your mother is not one of them." I said, feigning a smile.

 

He didn't say anything, but gave a slight grin. "Yeah, duh."

 

"Do you feel like you deserve to be forgiven now?" 

 

"Maybe. A little bit."

 

I sat down on his bed and opened up to a page where a family photo was taken. This time, we were out on the back porch. It was late summer and we were all wearing t-shirts and jean shorts. We were all very happy in the picture. Everyone was, even Damian. Bruce had his arm around his youngest son, with a smile that could change that world. Tim and I weren't paying any attention to the way Bruce looked, we were just looking at the camera. "Do you see that smile?" 

 

Damian nodded.

 

"That's the smile of someone who really loves you, someone who forgives you no matter what. Someone who loves you, no matter what." 

 

"I guess so." 

 

"No, you know so." I said, and this time I smiled like I meant it.


End file.
